The real fun of rockets is the kids. Not that “us guys” aren’t just big kids, but when you see how actually kids react, it adds another dimension. They compete to be “rocket runners,” retrieving the parachuting ships. They eye the rockets, don’t know whether to be scared or excited, and hold their ears even though there’s little more than a whoosh.
This particular double launch was great until the wind caught the two ships and landed them in a cornfield – where the corn is now between six- and ten-feet tall.
Meanwhile, I bumble along assembling my rocket, having it fall apart as I tried to rush final assembly the night before. Strange thing was, I didn’t curse or even get mad. It’s a hobby, not an obsession.